


Hunter Quest: To Be A Pokemon Master

by jellyfishsenpai



Category: Hunter X Hunter, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishsenpai/pseuds/jellyfishsenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon's father left him in the care of his aunt, Mito, to become a Pokemon Master. Eleven years later, Gon wants to follow in his father's footsteps. Along his journey, he meets new friends and makes new enemies, all while aiming to be the very best. Follow Gon's growth as a Pokemon trainer. Experience the wonderful world of Pokemon in the HxH universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gon always awoke early, just in time to see the sun rise over the highest crest of Wailmer Island. The morning air filled his lungs and brought life back to his rested limbs. With unparalleled vigor, he leapt out of bed in a nearly perfect parabola, landing loudly on the wooden floor.

This morning, his heart raced with new excitement, the kind he could no longer contain.

In a few short hours, a respected professor, whose studies were regarded with the utmost respect and accolades, would be arriving by ship. And rumor had it, he was bringing some specimens, the pinnacle of his research:

Pokemon.

***

Aunt Mito was already in the kitchen, frying eggs over the stove, by the time Gon had dressed and styled his hair.

“Good morning, Aunt Mito!” Gon chirped, swiping the short stack of plates from the counter so he could begin setting the table.

“Good morning, Gon,” Mito said, somewhat reluctantly. She eyed her nephew as he bustled about, his dark eyes robust and gleaming. At the ripe age of 12, he was certainly more physically fit than any other child she had encountered, but he was young nonetheless. Sending him off on his own adventure, with no one to guide him, or watch over him, or…

“Aunt Mito! The bacon!”

Gon’s sudden cry brought Mito back to reality, and she scrambled to turn off the heat beneath the sizzling bacon. Gon collapsed on one of the chairs, leaning back so the front legs hovered waveringly, so that he could prop his feet on the table.

“You’ve got to pay more attention,” Gon chided, biting into a slice of toast. “Don’ wanna burn th’ouse down.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Mito said absently, flipping an egg so the yolk was on top.

Mito supposed she couldn’t convince Gon to stay. He was stubborn, almost as stubborn as his father, and when he set his heart on something, by Jove, he’d do anything to achieve it.

She flipped the other egg in the pan, but this time, she must’ve been too rough. The runny yolk spread from a crack in the thin membrane, hissing when it puddled on the bottom of the pan.

Despite knowing the boy wouldn’t change his mind, Mito steeled herself. She had to try.

“Gon,” she said, turning the stove completely off, “are you sure you want to meet with the professor today?”

“Of course!” he responded. “I mean, he probably won’t come back to Wailmer Island. Who knows if I’ll ever get this chance again!”

Mito bit her bottom lip. She gently placed the unbroken egg on Gon’s plate before slapping the broken one, the yolk hard and dark, on her own plate. “You’re right,” she said softly. “You’re right. But why are you so determined? You’re twelve years old! You’re still a child! Why do you want to risk your li—”

Gon’s steady gaze stole the words from her mouth and the air from her lungs. “Because,” he began, blinking, “I want to.”

Mito hung her head. She shouldn’t have expected some grand explanation, some divine reasoning. This was Gon, after all.

“My father left everything behind to become a Pokemon master,” Gon continued. His eyes fell on the small, framed picture of his father crouching by a motorbike. “He even left me, when I was just a baby! I’ve got to figure there’s something great in being a Pokemon trainer!”

Suddenly enraged, Mito slammed both palms against the table. “Gon, what your father did was… was unbelievably cruel,” she said. “I don’t want you to throw away your life to copy him.”

But Gon shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want to copy him,” he said. “I want to surpass him. And maybe, along the way, I’ll find him, somewhere, someday.”

Defeated, Mito sank into her chair and held her head in her hands. “Do you really think you can surpass him, Gon?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“I don’t see why not!” he said. “He was twelve when he caught the Red Gyarados, Lord of the Lake, with a Great Rod! I caught him with just an Old Rod!” He jabbed his chest with a thumb and beamed. “Have faith in me, Aunt Mito! I’ll come back when I’m a proper Pokemon Trainer!”

She reached across the table to ruffle his hair. “There’s no helping it, then,” she said. “Make me proud, Gon.”

With a mouth full of egg, Gon grinned. “Will do!”

***

The professor waited on the doc, perched on his suitcase with his eyes closed. A soft hum escaped his wrinkled lips, and the sun beat down on him, warm enough to cause sweat to bead along his brow.

“Professor Netero?”

The old professor opened one eye. Standing a few feet away, hands nervously clasped before him, was a man from the village, presumably one in charge, judging by the look of his robes and the beads hung around his neck.

“I am Netero, the Pokemon professor,” Netero said, stepping off his suitcase so he could stand on solid ground. “Thank you for inviting me to your lovely island.”

The man fumbled for words, bowing hastily. “No, no, thank you for accepting! It’s a great honor. Please, make yourself at home. I apologize if any of our inhabitants are a bit too exuberant. So many of us have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“I’m flattered,” said Netero, handing off his suitcase to the other man. “Before I subject myself to relentless questioning, would you mind if I explored the island a bit on my own?”

“That’s dangerous!” the man blurted. “We might not have many Pokemon on this island, but there are other deadly creatures that—”

Netero held up a solemn hand, and with his other, he dug into the satchel hanging off his hips to retrieve a small red and white ball. “I may not be as young as I used to be,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “but I can handle myself pretty well.”

The other man bowed in resignation and apology. “Forgive me, Professor,” he said. “Please, explore the island to your heart’s content.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Netero said, smirking. “Take my suitcase to my lodgings. And do be careful; my priceless research is in there.” He called the last bit over his shoulder, much to the village leader’s dismay, chuckling as the man fretted over the luggage. “Now then,” Netero said to himself, eying the dense woods that clung to the mountainside, “where to begin.”

***

“I’m off then!” Gon called as he slipped on his boots and threw open the door. His backpack was slung sloppily off his shoulders, one strap tighter than the other, and his fishing rod—his good one, the one he’d bought from a traveling fisherman—barely secured by the top flap.

Mito waved a dish towel in his direction. “Wait, wait!” she cried. “You can’t go out like this. Where are you off to in such a hurry? The professor isn’t to give his first talk until this evening.”

As Mito adjusted his straps, Gon bounced on his heels. “I can’t just sit here and wait,” he whined. “I’ve got to do something. I’m gonna go to the forest and run around for a while. I’ll be back before dinner, promise!”

With a heavy sigh that made her shoulders slump, Mito stepped back. “Fine,” she said, “but be careful.”

“I always am!” Gon shouted, bounding out the door. He raced along the narrow path that wove around the nearest cliff and led to the mountains.

Mito cupped her hands around her mouth. “Don’t tell lies, Gon. You’re terrible at it!” she yelled.

Though faint, his cry of “Sorry, Aunt Mito!” reached her before she closed the door. With her back against it, she sagged into the wood, her chest tight. She clenched the dish towel in her hand, fingers paling against the cloth.

She pressed her free hand against her teeth and shut her eyes, tightly enough so that the budding tears wouldn’t have a place to fall from.

_Gon_ , she thought, _take care of yourself. Please._


	2. Chapter 2

The brisk mountain air chilled Netero’s nostrils each time he inhaled, and his powerful legs propelled him up the steep incline. It had been far too long since the professor had been in the field, surrounded by indigenous wildlife. He’d spent too much time locked away in a cramped laboratory, consulting only notebooks and photographs he’d collected from decades of research, refusing to venture outside lest he find new data (which he was certain would happen).

He’d managed to collect data, with the help of his colleagues on the Zodiac Council, on roughly 386 different species of Pokemon, and he feared he would only continue to discover new creatures, should he venture outside, thus deeming his work incomplete.

This freedom was almost foreign, now.

Netero paused at the apex of the incline, closing his eyes and spreading his arms. He wanted to breathe it all in, fill his body with the essence of Nature until it burst from his pores.

From somewhere above him, he heard a sudden cry, the snap of branches, a prolonged yell that increased in volume, the rustle of leaves torn from their branches. It ceased as suddenly as it had begun. There was no crash, no heavy thud, as expected. Netero opened his eyes.

Suspended in the air, vines woven around his arms and legs, was Gon. His only injury: a gash across his cheek.

“Are you alright?” Netero asked, peering, with furrowed brows, at the entangled boy. When Gon nodded, he asked, “Just how high were you?”

“I was near the top,” Gon finally said, whining, wrestling with the vines. “I was so close this time, too!”

“The top…?” Netero tilted his head back to search for the highest point. He couldn’t find it; the sun blinded him. He shrugged off the nagging curiosity and moved to Gon’s side. “Would you like some help?”

Gon gave one final jerk of his limbs before going limp. “I guess there’s no helping it. Thanks, Mister!” Gon said, facing Netero fully for the first time. A moment passed, and Gon’s eyes went wide. “Ah! You’re the Pokemon professor!”

“You’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you!” Gon said, thrashing again, this time with excitement rather than desperation. “I wanted to talk to you! I want to be a Pokemon trainer!”

Netero worked on the vines with a small knife he pulled from his satchel. “You do, do you?” he prompted.

“More than anything!” Gon said. “My father gave up everything to meet you and start training to become a Pokemon Master! I’m gonna do the same and find him!”

“Oh?” Netero said, sawing through the final vine caught around Gon’s ankle. “And what is your father’s name?”

“Ging!” said Gon, as Netero made the final cut. “Ging Freecs.”

For a few brief seconds, the name floated aimlessly in the air between them, Gon rubbing his newly-freed limbs and Netero calmly replacing his knife.

_Ging Freecs._

Netero rose. A fresh breeze washed over him, and the skin on his bare arms puckered, perhaps from the cold, perhaps not.

From the depths of his belly, he began to laugh, a genuine gleeful holler that sashayed up his throat and pried open his lips so it, too, could feel the wind on its face.

“Did I say something funny?” Gon said, his head tilted, with a gentle smile.

Netero clapped him on the shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye. “I didn’t know Ging had a son. What a wonderful surprise, my boy! I’d be happy to take the Ging Freecs’ son under my wing, any day!”

His lips spreading into a smile, Gon clenched both fists and drew them close to his chest.

“I’m afraid,” Netero said, interrupting Gon’s unabashed joy, “I didn’t bring any low-level Pokemon with me. You’ll have to come back to my laboratory. It’s a bit of a journey.”

“I’ll go!” Gon said, lips parted. “I’ll go as far as I have to.”

Netero laughed and planted a hand on Gon’s head. “That’s good to hear. I like your spirit, my boy. Come,” he said, turning toward the town, “you should pack your things. We leave tomorrow.”

They began their descent. Netero turned sharply around to face Gon, his expression earnest.  
“Forgive me, my boy,” the professor said sheepishly, “but please tell me your name.”

Grinning once more, Gon said, “My name’s Gon, Gon Freecs. It’s nice to meet you, Professor Netero!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Y I K E S. I'm notoriously bad at finishing things, but to post an update almost a full year later? That's pretty bad. Even so, I hope you enjoy this addition, and I hope to write more in the near future.

Gon stood at the rear of the ship, waving grandly. “Bye-bye, Aunt Mito!” he cried, grinning. “I’ll be back someday!”

“Be careful, Gon!” she shouted back, straining her voice and fighting back tears. When she could no longer see his small form, she lowered her own arms and wrapped them around her waist, as if trying to hold herself together. The situation was too familiar, and it dredged up long-buried phantoms of the past. Another boy, roughly the same age, had already performed this rite, making empty promises and swearing to rise to the top, nearly two decades previously.

But Mito forced a smile. Gon was not his father. Gon was different. No matter what, he would return.

***

Before stopping at Wailmer Island, the professor’s ship had visited a number of distant ports, slowly accumulating potential trainers. Gon’s home was the last stop, and he was the final addition.

No one on board expected an easy process. For years it had been known that the Pokemon Trainers were an elite group. Certainly, amateurs could partake in similar activities and train their local Pokemon, but only the truly skilled and worthy could obtain a Trainer ID and travel the world in pursuit of their dreams. And even fewer still were the number of Pokemon Champions and Masters. Only the prodigious and determined could even dream of obtaining those ranks.

Gon, of course, thought nothing of his dream. Some might call it unreachable, but for him, his dream was just a goal he would fight to make reality.

Once Gon had boarded the ship, the professor disappeared. He wouldn’t see the man for several weeks, and he could only guess he’d left on the back of some strong and beautiful creature, something Gon hadn’t even seen in his collection of the professor’s books.

Thinking only of the ship beneath his feet and the waves around him, Gon breathed deeply of the salty air. Living on Wailmer Island, he had experienced his fair share of ocean life, but rarely had he had the privilege of traversing the seas on a ship, let alone one as well-equipped and lively as this one. Gon closed his eyes and let the salt spray nip his cheeks.

After a short while, Gon realized he was the only one on the upper deck who was not a member of the crew. On his way to the stairs which led into the belly of the boat, Gon caught the arm of a thin shipmate whose foot caught on the edge of the railing.

“Careful, Mister” Gon said with a smile.

The man appeared sheepish as he nodded to Gon in thanks before scurrying away, only to be prodded by bulkier men. Gon could hear their laughter as he neared the stairs, but he decided it wasn’t his place to interfere.

As Gon descended, he heard footsteps and turned to see the same crewman from before. His cheeks were flushed, and he offered a sheepish smile, which Gon eagerly returned. He didn’t want to ask why the man had decided to accompany him, and he didn’t mind the company.

In the lower decks, most of the passengers rested on their backs, arms draped over their eyes. Some pressed their fists to their mouths as their cheeks puffed, eyes shut tight. Others seemed to have collapsed in uncomfortable positions, draped over barrels or with their faces against the floor.

Gon approached the nearest man and knelt by his side. His face was pale.

“Mister, are you alright?” Gon asked, reaching to feel his forehead. But the man slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me, kid,” he growled, immediately gagging after he spoke. “I’m fine. Just... “

“Motion sickness?” Gon supplied, already opening his backpack. He sifted through his belongings, hunting for the first aid kit. To the crewmember, he said, “Please go get some fresh water!” The man scrambled to his feet and stumbled out the doorway without another word.

The man before him scoffed and turned his face away. “Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t have—”

“Say ‘ahh!’” Gona slipped a dried leaf between the man’s lips and pressed it down against his tongue. The man choked, trying to spit it out, but Gon held his lips closed.

Unbeknownst to Gon, the captain had also followed him down, and he watched silently from the doorway. The crewman returned with a glass of water, nearly splashing the captain as he apologized and folded his body so as to slide through the opening between the captain and the doorframe. He handed the glass to Gon, who promptly lifted the glass to the sick man’s lips and tilted it. He sputtered, but the leaf went down.

Rising, Gon wiped his hands on his shorts. “You’ll feel better soon, Mister!” he said, grinning. Turning to the crew member, he shook the man's hand and cheerfully said, "Thanks, Mr. Katsuo!"

In the far corner of the room, a blond haired stranger reclined in a hammock, flipping through the latest edition of the Trainer Handbook. They peered over the pages and smirked. On the floor by the door sat a lanky man with round glasses who snored peacefully, but when the captain looked more closely, he saw that his eyes were cracked, his lips too curved for him to truly be unconscious.

The captain smiled to himself as he retreated to the upper deck. The recruits that year, he thought, had already yielded some promising characters.

Gon grew weary of the confining cabin and decided to return to the deck. The blond and the tall man stopped him.

“Did you give that man poison? To eliminate the competition?” the blond asked. His eyes were strange, Gon noticed, harsh and an uncertain color. But he could only focus on the accusation.

Waving his hands before him, Gon said, “No, no! I gave him medicine! I picked it and dried it on the mountain.”

The tall man bent at the waist so their eyes were level. “So you got some ‘medicinal herbs’ in that back, huh?” he asked, punctuating his remark with stiff air quotes.

Blinking, Gon nodded once. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Hmph.”

The blond rested a hand on Gon’s shoulder and offered a forced smile. “You don’t seem like you’re lying,” they said. “But you are pretty young to be going on a journey like this.”

“My dad did the same thing when he was my age,” Gon said, his eyes sparkling. “He only ever came back home to hand me off to Aunt Mito! So I want to catch up to him and find him. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What an honest kid,” the tall man said with a sneer. “Want to sit down and tell us your whole life story while you’re at it? Shouldn’t take long.” He patted Gon’s head, messing up his hair. “Didn’t anyone tell you that you’re allowed to lie to strangers? The world’s dangerous, kid.”

Gon filled his cheeks with air before speaking. “My name’s Gon. And Aunt Mito said that if you lie too much, your hair falls out, your teeth rot, and everyone starts to hate you,” he said matter-of-factly. 

A moment of silence passed between the three of them. Then, the blond doubled over, laughing. The sound was light, and Gon found it pleasant enough to join in. The tall man just fumed, huffing and crossing his arms.

“I like you, Gon. My name’s Kurapika,” the blond said, extending a hand.

“Nice to meet you!” Gon said, grasping the outstretched hand and shaking it with fervor. He turned to the tall man, whose cheeks had turned bright red, even in the dim light. “What’s your name?”

Jutting his chin out, the man said, “You don’t need to know.”

Pouting, Gon tugged on the sleeve of the man’s blue blazer. “Come on, mister. Let’s be friends!”

The man’s willpower, it seemed, was not so great, as he gave in and extended a hand with a sigh. “Leorio.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Leorio!”

After their brief introductions, Gon convinced the others to follow him to the main deck. The air had grown warmer, and the salt clung to Gon’s skin. He savored the sea-tinged air and spread his arms, closing his eyes once more.

But soon he realized that the winds had begun to stir, and the cries of sea bird Pokemon grew frantic. When Gon reopened his eyes, the activity on the ship hadn’t changed, but he felt something was off. Wingulls scattered, flying over the boat in a swarm, squawking as they fled in the opposite direction.

Something was wrong.

Though Gon did not immediately realize, the captain of the ship had emerged from his quarters and was watching not only the sky but Gon, too. He was intrigued by the boy’s sudden stiffness, as well as how easily he navigated the ship’s unstable deck. Puffing on his pipe, the captain said nothing, holding his tongue as the ship pressed onward.

As the sea Pokemon grew more uneasy, Gon could no longer restrain himself. He leapt at the pole which boasted the crow’s nest. He didn’t pay attention to the cries of caution from his new companions. They, he determined, did not sense anything was amiss.

With nimble limbs and inhuman speed, he scaled the pole and pulled himself over the edge of the empty nest. Standing on his toes, he peered out into the distance, squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun.

Though the sky directly above the ship appeared clear and blue, in the far distance, Gon detected a growing darkness. If he hadn’t spent most of his time in the mountains and trained his senses to detect the slightest of changes in his environment, he might had been at a disadvantage. But now that he knew the ship was in danger, he knew he had to notify the captain.

From the deck, the captain watched Gon. When it seemed that Gon was ready to jump down, the captain cupped his hands around his mouth and called up to him. “What’s wrong, boy?”

Gon started, then faced the captain and mimicked the gesture. “There’s a storm coming, sir!” he cried.

“But the sky,” the captain said, hiding his intentions. “It looks so blue! There’s no sign of rain here.”

“Maybe not _here_ ,” Gon said, pointing into the distance, “but it’s coming straight for us. The Wingulls were shouting for a reason! The clouds don’t lie!”

Kurapika and Leorio, overhearing this conversation, thought Gon’s words sounded much like nonsense. The language of Pokemon was practically incomprehensible, and no clouds were visible above them. And yet Kurapika felt a certain kind of dread settle over their body, and they moved instinctively, sidling up to the captain, whose face showed his satisfaction with Gon’s observations.

“Sir,” Kurapika said, hands folded behind their back, “what should we do?”

“Tie up the masts,” the captain said, blowing smoke from his mouth and turning toward the approaching horizon, “and steady yourselves. This storm is going to be a rough one.”


	4. Chapter 4

When the rain first broke from the clouds, it flooded the deck and made it difficult to see even ten feet ahead. Only Gon was able to see the other end of the ship, and even then, he still had trouble. The captain’s voice rose above the rainfall, and he ordered his crew to expel the water from the deck as quickly as possible while being careful of their footing.

 

“We can’t afford to lose a single person on this ship,” the captain barked, gripping a dangling rope to steady himself. “So don’t you dare go overboard.”

 

The crew responded with a resounding, “Aye, Captain!”

 

Kurapika had deftly secured the masts before the storm engulfed the ship, but they surveyed the deck from the side railing, watching the crewmen scurry. As they made note of the crew’s motions, certain they could prove useful if needed, Leorio reclined next to them, resting his elbows on the railing. 

 

“So,” he said, “what brings you here? In it for the money? Hard labor isn’t really my style, either.” His suit jacket had been soaked through, but he didn’t seem to mind much. 

 

Kurapika didn’t turn to face Leorio, but they could perfectly visualize the smug look on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they said. “My reasons for wanting to be a trainer aren’t so materialistic. Besides, if you don’t work for what you earn, you’re no better than a petty thief.”

 

“Strong words,” Leorio said. “Think you missed my point, but that’s probably just because you’re still young.”

 

“My age has nothing to do with it, Leorio.” They turned to him with a stony gaze. “I have more righteous goals than you, and I guarantee I have witnessed more horrors than you ever will.”

 

At this, Leorio crossed his arms over his chest, his expression solemn. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said. “I don’t want to hear pompous words from the mouth of a spoiled brat.”

 

Kurapika’s left hand twitched toward the sheath on their hip. As if reciting a prepared speech, they spoke in a low tone. “I am the last survivor member of my clan. My family and friends were slaughtered by Team Rocket. Our Pokemon were either stolen or killed. I witnessed this. I will not tolerate you speaking to me in this way.”

 

In the stormy darkness, Leorio swore he saw them flash red. He swallowed, eyes trained on Kurapika’s face. He forced a crooked smile and raised his hands. “Now, now. I don’t need your tragic backstory. There’s no need to threaten me, bud—”

 

“I am  _ not _ your friend,” Kurapika snapped. “Take back what you’ve said, or I  _ will  _ hurt you.”

 

“Look, just calm down,” Leorio insisted. “You treat me with respect, and then I’ll do the sa—”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Leorio’s lips smacked together. The force with which Kurapika spoke those two words sent a chill down his back. He couldn’t even muster the will to respond.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, bastard,” Kurapika said, their voice rough. “Apologize.” Leorio only raised his hands, sweat mingling with the rain which dripped from his temples. He couldn’t muster the will to speak, let alone explain himself. They maintained their distance, fury welling up inside Kurapika, while Leorio’s frustration began to build.

 

Both of them were unaware of the captain listening in, his attention on the storm but his ears tuned into the conversation between the two prospective trainers. The smile on his face, too, went undetected.

 

As the two of them argued, Gon slid around the wet deck, keeping an eye on the choppy waves which spilled onto the ship, oblivious to the tense situation. He helped where he could, and his swift, agile motions had earned him a whistle from the captain.

 

Katsuo and the other crewmen withdrew single Pokeballs from their pockets, and several Machokes and Machamps emerged to assist in securing the ship. Katsuo’s Machop seemed out of place, but it carried barrels below deck all the same.

 

Though the ship was leaden with dead weight from the seasick passengers below, in addition to the heavy pokemon, it sailed through the monstrous waves with little trouble, though everyone on board sputtered when the water filled their mouths.

 

Gon knew the time was not right for him to fish, but his fingers itched to draw his rod and cast into the tumultuous waters. Something big was lurking below the surface, he was certain. Bigger than the Lord of the Lake, bigger than anything he could ever dream of.

 

Without taking another moment to consider the possible consequences of his impulsive behavior, Gon leapt up to grab the horizontal beam which bore one of the sails. He swung his body around so he sat atop it, and with this vantage point, he could see the darkness of the waters surrounding the boat, as well as the fish leaping from the surface in a frenzy off the starboard side of the ship.

 

_ There _ .

 

For years, Gon had taught himself to fish like an expert. He’d practiced remaining still and silent, holding his breath so as to blend into his surroundings. With the most delicate touch, he could cast his line into waters still and rough with miraculous accuracy. Though he had assumed the culmination of his training had been fishing out the Lord of the Lake, the adrenaline coursing through to his fingertips told him otherwise.

 

The red bobber cut through the air, and it hit the waves with a nearly undetectable splash.

 

“Gon!” Kurapika shouted, cupping their hands around their mouth. “What are you doing?”

 

But Gon could only see the bobber tossing about on the waves, and his ears were filled with the roar of the water as it crashed into the side of the ship. He gripped the rod tighter and pressed his lips together.

 

He didn’t notice Leorio reaching for him, nor did he hear Kurapika’s panicked shouting. Neither of them reached Gon. When the bobber dipped unnaturally beneath the surface, Gon tightened his legs around the beam and jerked his rod back. The line grew taut, rain droplets flinging from the silver thread which plunged into the ocean.

 

The captain marked Gon’s form and the tugging of the bobber in the ocean, a hand on the sheath of his sword.

 

As soon as the bobber had dipped below the waves, Gon knew the creature on the other end possessed strength greater than any he’d ever experienced. He gripped his rod tighter, gritting his teeth. Though he realized it was likely his line would snap or his rod would break, his grimace turned to a grin.

 

In the center of the storm, Gon welcomed the challenge.

 

He hadn’t devoted much time to fishing in the ocean, and the open waters provided an ample battlefield. Whatever had latched onto his hook knew the seas and how to fight. It pulled on the line and threatened to yank Gon from the ship. But Gon wasn’t one to give up easily. He maintained his position, sweat mixing with the rain, and the moment the creature relaxed, Gon let out a ferocious shout and reeled with all his might, trying to snag the beast and bring it to the surface.

 

From his seat, Gon marked the enormous pectoral fin which broke the surface, white edges stark against the darkness of the backdrop. Some primal roar sounded from the break in the ocean before it submerged itself once more. In an instant, the creature had vanished, having broken free of Gon’s hold, leaving the hook and bobber miraculously intact.

 

The line was limp as it returned to the ship, and the waves soon ceased. Above, the sky faded to gray. Gon let out the remaining air in his lungs and dropped from the beam, cheeks puffed out. Before the captain could even shift his weight, Kurapika and Leorio rushed to Gon and reached his side, their eyes mirroring the concern found in a doting parents’ gaze.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Leorio said. His voice was stern but his eyes seemed frantic. “Fishing in the middle of a storm like that? You’re crazy! What would you have done if that big fish yanked you into the ocean?”

 

Kurapika gripped Gon’s shoulder and refused to meet his eyes. “You were reckless. I’m glad you’re safe,” they said breathlessly. Their fingers quivered against Gon’s jacket, but they said nothing more.

 

“Well, my boy,” the captain said, “that was quite a show.” He lit his pipe and let the smoke curl off his tongue. “That was an impressive attempt to catch that Pokemon.”

 

“You know what it was?” Gon asked. His eyes seemed to flash with excitement, and his grip tightened around his rod. “It was really strong.”

 

With a mischievous smirk, the captain turned away. “No,” he said, “not a clue.

 

Gon’s shoulder sank for a moment before he recovered, regaining his energy and planting his feet firmly on the deck. “Then that just means I’ll have to try to find it again another day!” he said, grinning. Kurapika sighed, but a soft smile graced their lips.

 

As he looked at the three trainer candidates, the captain began to laugh. “What an interesting bunch you are,” he said. Leaning closer, he held a hand next to his mouth and said, “I’ll give you three a special favor and take you to the port closest to the exam site. I might even give you another hint, as thanks for your help—and the entertainment.”

 

His face beaming with excitement, Gon cried out before turning his attention to the crewmates who were struggling to recover from the storm. In turn, Kurapika and Leorio did the same, offering their strength and dexterity to those who had been injured or who had lost control of their cargo.

 

After ascending to his place behind the wheel, the captain’s gaze swept over the deck, and he noted the smile that never left Gon’s face, the gentleness with which Leorio assisted the injured, and the preciseness in the way Kurapika directed the crewmembers to restore order. One hand on the wheel, the captain bellowed a laugh and the order, “Full sail ahead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent more time rewatching HxH (for the fifth time) in the past two weeks than I have writing this fic. And I only started rewatching it five days ago. *shrugs* Well, I'm mainly trying to move the plot forward since none of the characters have any Pokemon yet (SOON. I promise. I know when they'll get them, but it's GETTING there that's the problem currently). So I hope you enjoy this installation!


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